Shelter
by QuixiHubris
Summary: Blanche doesn't startle easily. In fact, Candela accuses them of lacking emotions altogether. But when a deadly storm descends on Professor Willow's lab, Spark surprises Blanche by facing down a tornado to save a stranger's pokémon. Whump and comfort/care, Blanche as genderfluid, no overt shipping (just the magic of friendship!).
1. Chapter 1

To Blanche, the sky above the city had turned the colors of a bruise. Mottled purple clouds, hints of yellow and green on the edges, churned above them, and thunder growled from the distance. A fat raindrop struck Blanche's cheek, and they gently brushed it away with their thumb to inspect it, as if it contained some vital piece of information.

"Blanche! Get a move on!"

Blanche turned to see Candela waving her arms at them from the entrance to Professor Willow's lab.

"We've got all the pokémon in the basement, but we're waiting on you," Candela added, gesturing over her shoulder. "The radar says the storm's almost on top of us!"

The discordant moan of the tornado siren swelled, threatening to drown out Candela's warning. Heavy raindrops smacked the pavement around Blanche's feet as they gazed back over the town. The little streets were deserted and dark, despite it being late afternoon. The colorful boutiques and typically bustling cafes were still and silent. From the high position of the lab, Blanche could see most of the town, and noticed that several neighborhoods were already without power.

"Blanche!" Candela shouted again.

"Spark still hasn't answered me," Blanche said, but they hurried up the path to the lab to avoid the escalating downpour. They paused under the lab's marquee next to Candela, and they noticed for the first time the tiny vulpix quivering inside Candela's collar, where she must have tucked it to comfort it.

Candela must have seen Blanche staring, and laughed nervously. "Ha, yeah, she's a little jumpy. She keeps breaking out of her ball, and I was afraid she'd get spooked by the thunder and run away, so now she's my little parasite."

Candela patted the vulpix, and the tiny pokémon squirmed closer to her and closed her eyes. Blanche allowed a small smile, but it quickly faded as they thought of Spark. Blanche pulled their communicator from the inside of their jacket and checked for missed messages for the umpteenth time.

Candela strained to see Blanche's screen. "I'm sure Spark's fine. The guy loves a good storm. He's probably at his apartment, waiting until the last minute to seek shelter. Because he's an idiot."

"Hm," said Blanche. As loathe as Blanche was to admit it, Candela was probably right. It was useless to worry over something they had no control over. Besides, the actual likelihood of something as destructive as a tornado developing over the little town was fairly low. Blanche predicted high winds, more power outages, a few downed limbs here and there.

And yet, they couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

"I'll leave you out here, you know," Candela warned as she stepped into the lab.

Blanche sighed and followed the leader of Team Valor inside. Willow had turned off most of the upstairs lights, but the path through the clutter of computers, complex diagnostic machines, and racks of pokémon-handling gear was illuminated by the mane of Candela's ponyta. The ponyta stamped anxiously on the tile floor, waiting to guide his human companions into the basement. He started at the roar of suddenly much closer thunder, and Candela reached out a hand to settle him.

As the two team leaders descended into the basement, Blanche observed, "The pokémon are reacting more strongly to this storm than the previous ones this summer."

"Pfft, they're always antsy in bad weather," Candela said.

"Not this antsy," Blanche said.

Candela reached the bottom of the steps and groaned dramatically. "Blanche, let it go. I wouldn't even be down here if the professor wasn't so phobic over storms. Let's just chill and wait it out, yeah?"

"I have a bad feeling. That's all," Blanche stated, determined to maintain their cool in the face of Candela's childish eye-rolling.

"I didn't know you had those," said Candela.

Blanche narrowed their eyes. "Had what?"

"Feelings."

Blanche bit their tongue as they followed Candela deeper into the basement. The space was used predominantly for storage and was littered with outdated machines, boxes of mildewed paperwork, and the seasonal decorations Spark had insisted were a necessity. Professor Willow had cleared a sitting area under the fluorescent lights and was using a dusty crate as a chair. Several pokémon wandered freely, but most were contained in their balls, which were closed in stacked cases for easy transport.

"No Spark?" Willow asked.

Blanche shook their head.

Willow pressed his lips together. "Hope he has the sense to be inside right now. The radio says swirling cloud formations were sighted west of town, heading our way. Best we stay camped down here until-"

With a clunk and a moan, the power went out. Instead of the whir of air-conditioning and the buzz of the overhead lights, all Blanche could hear was the wail of wind above them. After a few beats, they heard something large and electric powering up in the darkness, and the lights came back on shortly after.

"I knew the back-up generator was a sound replacement for the pikachu-powered one we had before," Blanche noted, relieved to be able to see again. "Much more reliable than… Professor?"

Willow's face looked gaunt and white under the harsh fluorescent lights, and he sat so rigidly that Blanche thought he could tip over and shatter like a porcelain figure. Candela chuckled and lounged on a dented filing cabinet, apparently tickled by Willow's fright. Such a child.

Blanche was pleased to see Candela jump up in surprise at the clatter of the lab door being thrown open upstairs, though Blanche was startled themself. The vulpix squealed until Candela hushed her and stroked the curly fur of her forehead.

"Was that the front door? Do you think it's Spark?" Candela whispered, so as not to further excite the creature on her chest.

Blanche said nothing, choosing to wait for whoever had opened the door to come downstairs. But after a couple minutes of nothing, they grew uncomfortable. If that was Spark, why wasn't he coming downstairs? Or at least calling down to let them all know he was there?

"I'll check it out," Blanche announced, their hand hovering over a pokéball on their belt.

"I wanna come," Candela said, standing.

Blanche glanced at the professor, still pale-faced and tense. "You stay with the pokémon. Don't put that vulpix in harm's way. Just in case."

Candela huffed, but after looking down at the shivering vulpix, seemed to agree. "Fine. If it's Spark, kick 'im in the shins for me for scaring the pokémon."

The pokémon, right. Blanche smirked and ascended the stairs.

When Blanche opened the door to the main floor, their senses were overwhelmed by the cacophony of wind and rain raging just outside the large glass windows of the lab. They were surprised they'd even heard the front door from the basement.

Standing in the doorway was the unmistakable silhouette of Team Instinct's leader. His spiky hair fluttered in the wind that blasted into the lab from the open door. As Blanche approached, they realized his back was turned to them. Rain gusted in through the open door, but Spark didn't flinch.

"Spark? Come inside. You're letting water in," Blanche said.

He was soaked. His jacket and pants clung and sagged, and he looked like he was being pulled downward with the weight of them. His hand was against the doorframe, and Blanche supposed it was for stability, as they could see now that he was panting.

"What's going on?" they asked. Blanche plucked the pokéball from their belt and prepared to release the pokémon inside. Was the lab in trouble? Blanche cursed themself for reacting so overdramatically. It was just the storm. Spark must have tried running through it and had winded himself.

Spark whirled on Blanche, and they reflexively stepped back. "Have you seen a meowth around the lab? Sorta fat, wears a pink collar?" he asked with a manic look in his eye.

Blanche blinked. "Again, Spark, what's going on?"

It wasn't odd to see Spark manically pursuing some absurd goal, but the desperation in his face was unusual. Blanche peered into the storm, but the world had gone gray with water. A flash of lightning briefly lit the scene, and thunder boomed far too soon after for comfort. The wind howled with the ferocity of a wild persian. When Spark didn't answer, Blanche placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Blanche, this little girl's meowth ran out into the storm," Spark explained, pulling away from Blanche. He never turned his eyes from the tempest. "I promised I'd find her, but I can hardly see anything out there."

The wind roared louder, and Blanche gasped as a chunk of trim was wrenched from the marquee. They grasped Spark's sleeve, fighting the impulse to flee to the basement. Blanche's heart thudded violently in their chest.

"Spark, we must go downstairs."

He shook free again. "I can't! I know she's out there. If I can-"

Blanche raised their voice. "It's just a pokémon, Spark!"

They immediately regretted their words. Spark looked at them as though he'd been struck in the face.

Blanche backpedaled. "I didn't mean that. But you have to be rational."

Spark opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by blinding light and deafening thunder. Blanche yelped and jumped backwards. The strike had to have been mere meters away from the building.

"I see her!"

Before Blanche could shout for him to wait, Spark had bolted out the door. Even if they'd tried to call out, the impossibly loud wind would have carried their voice away. It sounded like a freight train was barreling toward the lab, and Blanche feared their heart would leap from their throat.

A tornado.

The rain flew sideways, and through it, Blanche could barely make out Spark scooping something off the ground. They screamed for Spark to run back, but the air was whipped from their lungs. More pieces of debris whirled through the air, and Blanche watched helplessly as Spark staggered back up the path, hunched over something that could only be the hefty pet meowth. Blanche covered their mouth as the gale forced Spark to one knee. They wanted to run to him, but their feet were anchored to the ground.

Suddenly, Spark squinted at something just beyond the lab that Blanche couldn't see. Spark's jaw dropped, and he twisted so his back would be to whatever it was he had seen. A white blur spun toward him and crashed against his back. Blanche screamed as Spark was thrown several feet. He landed hard on his side, still curled around the meowth.

He lifted his head for a moment, then sagged back down, and then was completely still.


	2. Chapter 2

"What's happening? Why are you screaming?" Candela asked in a frantic tone as she raced across the lab.

Blanche struggled to find words. "I was… and he ran out… there was a meowth! I tried to stop him!"

Candela pushed past Blanche, vulpix still in her jacket. She scanned the horizon for a moment before finding Spark's body. A choked cry escaped her lips, causing the vulpix to whine. "Spark! Is he-?"

"I don't know," Blanche stammered. This couldn't be happening. This was a nightmare.

Candela pulled the vulpix from her jacket and thrust her into Blanche's arms. She sprinted out into the rain, which was still heavy, but vertical now and not as all-consuming. Blanche couldn't speak to stop her, so they simply stood, clutching the little pokémon close to their chest.

Candela called out her machoke as she ran toward Spark. She slid to a stop in the mud beside him, falling to her knees. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him, making Blanche wince. He didn't respond. Candela leaned over him, her ear close to his mouth. She gave a thumbs up to Blanche, but they weren't reassured.

She then pulled a fat, alarmed-looking meowth from his arms and ran back toward Blanche. Her machoke lifted Spark as easily as a doll and jogged behind her, his worried expression reflecting Candela's. Blanche stepped aside as the pokémon and trainer approached. They went straight for the basement, and Blanche followed suit as though in a trance.

Willow greeted them at the base of the stairs, dark eyebrows pressed together in concern. "Candela? What happened up there? Is everything…" He stared at the machoke's cargo and silently moved aside to give him room.

"Over here, Brutus," Candela instructed, calling her pokémon by his nickname.

Brutus followed Candela's guidance and gently placed Spark on the floor. He stepped back so Candela could inspect her friend. Blanche took several wary steps closer, still holding the vulpix.

"Spark, can you hear me?" Candela asked as she crouched at his side. The meowth wriggled from her arms and scuttled to the professor's feet.

Blanche rarely saw Spark when he wasn't moving. Sure, he'd pass out in an odd place now and then, but he looked brimming with energy even in his sleep. Now, he looked small and frail, like a waterworn shell that could be crushed between one's fingers. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and his brow was lined with pain.

Candela slapped Spark's face with just enough force to make a popping noise.

"Candela," Willow chastised.

Spark groaned and his eyes opened, just barely. "Where…?"

Candela laughed with relief. "You're safe in the lab, you idiot."

Spark rocked his head. "No, the meowth… I saw…" He craned his head, trying to sit up, but cried out when he had lifted himself a couple inches.

"Don't move! The meowth is fine. Is that what you were doing out in the storm? What happened?" Candela asked.

Blanche couldn't look at Spark, so they looked at Brutus. He paced behind some of the boxes, clearly just as agitated as his human companions. Something was wrong. There was more red on his arms than could be accounted for by his markings. Apparently, the stress of the event was too much for him, and he withdrew into a pokéball on his own. Nausea swelled in Blanche's stomach.

"He's bleeding," Blanche said, once they found their voice.

Willow snapped out of his anxiety-induced paralysis and joined Candela next to Spark. "Where are you hurt?" he asked, returning to his usual composure and authority.

Spark grinned, but it was strained. "I'm not! I'm shaken up a little, that's all."

Spark drew a quick breath to steel his nerves and pushed himself up. This time, he made it to a seated position without a sound, though his face scrunched up tightly. He let out a heavy sigh once he was up, but then laughed.

Candela laughed too and plopped into a cross-legged position. "I thought you were dead, you asshole!"

"But…" Blanche began, but didn't know what to say. Maybe all the chaos had made them see things. He'd been hit so hard… could he really be able to bounce back like this?

Professor Willow's voice broke through Blanche's private reflection. "Spark, your back…"

Where Spark had been lying, a puddle of blood and rainwater spread. Spark twisted his head to see what everyone was looking at.

"Oh," he said, far too calmly for the situation.

Willow gestured to Candela to help remove Spark's soggy jacket. As they pulled at the sleeves, Spark grimaced.

Despite his obvious discomfort, Spark took the opportunity to make a joke. "Would you believe I've had this exact fantasy? But with less blood?"

"I'd punch you if you weren't bleeding out in a basement right now," Candela shot back. She was trying to keep things lighthearted in her blunt way, but Blanche observed a distinct tremor in Candela's dark, strong fingers. Blanche swallowed anxiously.

"How ya holding up, Blanche?" Spark asked. Willow carefully began to roll up the back of his shirt.

Blanche shook their head to clear their thoughts. "I'm fine."

Spark smiled, as sunshiny as ever, even though there were dark circles forming beneath his eyes. "Relax, Blanche. Everything's OK."

Willow's breath caught as he finished pulling up Spark's shirt. He hesitated a moment before pulling the shirt over Spark's head, as if Spark were an oversized toddler being changed. Candela leaned around to see what had given Willow pause and she visibly flinched. It took all of Blanche's will to move their feet and circle behind Spark to see the damage. The vulpix in their arms whimpered, and Blanche eased the tight hold they hadn't realized they'd been using on the poor pokémon.

A deep, crimson gash stretched from the middle of Spark's back up to the back of his right shoulder. Blood welled within the wound and rolled down his spine. The thing gaped widest in the center, and it didn't take a doctor to know the injury would require stitches at the very least.

"How…?" Willow breathed, fingers flexing and straightening, as if he wanted to close the wound himself.

Blanche forced themself to speak. "He was hit by a large piece of debris that the wind kicked up. I believe it was the lab's sign, but I didn't get a good look at it. It happened too fast."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Candela demanded of Spark. Despite the angry rasp in her voice, her eyes had turned watery.

"About what?" Spark's voice was higher than it should have been. His smile twitched, and his eyes darted. Blanche recognized the beginnings of panic. "Look, I knew I was hit, but I didn't know about whatever you're seeing back there. Care to fill me in?"

"How could you not know? Spark, this is _really_ bad. Like, hospital bad," Candela said.

Thunder bellowed above them hard enough to quake the basement floor. The vulpix yipped and leaped from Blanche's arms. She landed gracefully on the floor and scampered toward the fat meowth, which hadn't moved since Professor Willow had walked away from her. The vulpix huddled against the larger pokémon, who hardly seemed to notice. The meowth blinked groggily and yawned.

For some reason, Blanche was angry with the mewoth. They knew the pokémon wasn't to blame for what happened, but they couldn't help but think that Spark would never have been out in the storm were it not for the actions of a skittish pet. But Spark could have used his brain for once in his life and refrained from running out into a developing tornado in the first place.

"Blanche, you're turning red," Willow said. "Are you all right?"

Blanche sniffed, frustrated with themself for letting their anger show like that. Now was the time for rationality. Spark needed their head, not their heart.

"We need to stop the bleeding. I'll get the first aid kit," they announced, heading for the stairs despite the increasing roar of the storm above ground.

"I think it's gonna take more than your plastic box of bandages and ointments to take care of this," Candela said.

"He needs a hospital," Willow agreed, hoisting himself to his feet.

"Still kinda waiting on an answer here, guys," Spark said, but his voice was weak, and neither Willow nor Candela seemed to notice.

Candela tapped irritably at her communicator. "Ugh, no signal! How are we supposed to call for help?"

Willow paced and drew his hand down his stubbled shin, thinking. "It still sounds terrible out there. If anything, I'll wager it's gotten worse. Even if we could contact the hospital, they may not be able to come to us."

Blanche lingered at the base of the stairs, waiting for someone to answer Spark. Blanche wasn't sure what to say. If they told him the degree of the injury, would he panic? Would telling him make the situation worse?

Candela tossed her communicator onto a box and grabbed a fistful of her hair. "What do we do, Professor? Is he going to be OK for however long it takes to get help? I've never seen a cut this bad. All that blood…"

Spark chewed his lip and watched Willow and Candela crisscross the basement, totally absorbed in their worrying. Blanche felt like they were witnessing the scene through a glass, like the others were in some museum exhibit that Blanche could only watch from the outside.

Spark wasn't smiling any more. His expression turned resolute, and while Willow and Candela were busy formulating solutions, he planted his hands firmly on the floor. Blanche knew what he was going to do, but found themself powerless to stop it. Spark pushed himself to his feet and stood upright, completely unflinching, as though nothing were out of the ordinary whatsoever.

"Everyone, listen to me!" he thundered.

Candela and the professor froze and stared at him, mouths agape. Even the thunder quieted for him. If Blanche hadn't seen the horrendous tear on his back minutes ago, they would have assumed he was as full of life as ever. He stood with the determination and sobriety he usually saved for battles.

"Spark," said Professor Willow, holding out his hands as if calming a wild pokémon. "You need to lie down."

Spark ignored him. "I don't want you to worry about me. There's enough else to worry about with the storm. I'll be fine. I know it."

Candela scoffed. "How could you know?"

"Gut feeling, I guess," Spark said with a smirk.

"Hardy-har," Candela grumbled. "Seriously, Spark, you've got a nasty gash from whatever hit you. We need to do something about it."

"Sooner rather than later," Willow added, looking toward the ceiling. "But with the weather as it is…"

"We need to treat it ourselves, as best we can," said Blanche. They brushed invisible wrinkles out of their flowing coat and addressed Candela. "Like I said, we must stop the bleeding. Each moment we delay puts Spark's life in danger."

Spark chuckled. "I really don't think-"

"I don't care what you do or don't think. Your shock might be preventing you from understanding the gravity of your wound, but believe me when I tell you that if you continue losing blood at this rate, you will be dead before the weather clears," Blanche said in their steeliest voice. They leveled their eyes at Spark, exuding all the authority they could muster as they strode across the basement floor toward him. They had to keep it together, stop letting their emotions get the better of them. Willow was still distracted by the storm overhead, and Candela relied too much on the whims of her fiery heart to give Spark what he needed now. Blanche had to act with logic and skill if they meant to keep Spark stable until professional help could arrive.

Spark's mouth moved, but the words wouldn't come. He looked surprised, and a bit scared, and if Blanche wasn't mistaken, impressed. They felt heat rising to their cheeks again, though out of a sudden sheepishness rather than anger this time.

"Thank you, Blanche," said Professor Willow, and he tugged his disheveled lab coat back into place, mirroring Blanche's own adjustment. "Candela, get the first aid kit and some clean towels from upstairs. Spark, you're exacerbating your injury. You need to lie down."

Candela nodded and dashed for the stairs. Blanche offered their arms to Spark for stability, but he shook his head. Sweat trickled from his temple, though the basement felt pleasantly cool to Blanche. Now that they were close to him, they saw the subtle swaying of his body. They gently took hold of Spark's forearm and turned his wrist to see the slight blue tinge of his fingernails. A spike of alarm shot up Blanche's spine. He'd already lost too much blood in the time it had taken them to realize the extent of the injury.

"Professor, he's entering hypovolemic shock," Blanche said, struggling to keep the frightened waver out of their words.

"Get him down," Willow instructed, coming to Spark's other side.

But Spark's legs were already buckling. Blanche and Willow caught him under the arms and crouched with his weight, lowering him to the floor, angling his body so he could lie on his stomach. His eyes fluttered and his breaths came quick and shallow from his blueish lips. He'd spent too long resisting and was paying the price.

Blanche exchanged a glance with Willow, whose jaw was clenched. He knew as well as Blanche did that their timeline had just been drastically shortened. Waiting out the storm could be a fatal mistake even if they did their best to intervene.

The clatter of Candela taking the steps two at a time drew Blanche's attention away. Team Valor's leader stopped at the bottom of the stairs, her hand over her heart, her face ashen.

"The lab…" Candela said, and had to pause for a gulp of air. "It's been destroyed!"


	3. Chapter 3

Blanche and Candela stood side by side, gazing in awe at the ruined lab. The floor-to-ceiling windows had been shattered, and the shards of glass sprawled across the tile and glinted with each flash of lightning. Blanche was reminded of constellations, a beautiful chaos with subtle patterns to trace. Chunks of plaster dropped from above and cracked on the floor. Some of the machines had been knocked over and lay in pieces over top of each other. Paperwork was glued to the ground with rainwater, or else tumbled across the lab with each burst of wind that came through the broken windows. Though the generator still functioned downstairs, the upstairs electrical had been obliterated by the elements, and an unsettling darkness encased the lab.

Blanche couldn't help but think of a graveyard.

Candela took a few cautious steps away from the entrance to the basement before calling out her ponyta. "Watch your step, Flicker," she told the pokémon.

The ponyta – Flicker – ducked his head obediently and picked a careful path through the rubble. The howling wind carried a mist inside that made the fire pokémon recoil, but without his light, Blanche knew they couldn't cross the area safely. Slow and steady, the group made their way to the front door, which had been blasted from its hinges and hung to the side at an odd angle.

Outside, the world was a wasteland. The town was just as dark as the lab. Tattered flags whipped in the wind above the businesses. Plastic bags and newspapers rolled through the streets, occasionally spinning up into miniature twisters, then dying down and being whisked into the currents of runoff that flowed down the streets in rivers. Signs, shopping carts, potted plants, anything that hadn't been nailed down before the storm were strewn across the sidewalks and clumped in parks and gardens.

Even the small hospital on the opposite side of town lay dark. Fortunately, it was never really a bustling place, but from where Blanche stood, it looked utterly deserted.

"They don't have the advantage of the high ground like we do," Blanche said, pointing toward the hospital. "There generators must have flooded. There's nowhere for all this water to go."

"This is a disaster," Candela said hoarsely. Flicker nibbled at her hand, looking for reassurance. She stroked his bright mane, the flames licking harmlessly through her fingers, but couldn't tear her eyes away from the devastated town below them.

Blanche checked their communicator, but there was still no signal. The singular tower that carried the signal must have been destroyed, too. Why had the professor wanted his lab in such a Podunk town? They jammed the communicator back in their coat and sighed through their nose.

"He doesn't have time to wait for the storm to pass. If the weather system is as large as they reported earlier, we might not see sunlight for the next few days," Blanche said. "Our communicators are useless while the tower is down and the power is out at the hospital."

Candela, who prided herself on her fearlessness, looked at Blanche with wide, terrified eyes. "What do we do? Go get a doctor and bring them back?"

Lightning split the sky, followed seconds later by thunder.

"We can't put someone else in danger. Or take a doctor away from helping whatever patients are already at the hospital. It could be chaos over there if they don't have a pokémon power source keeping the machines running," Blanche reasoned. Surely, they had an electric pokémon rig to run just the essential life-saving machines during blackouts. Even so, Blanche couldn't justify pulling a doctor away from an emergency and forcing them into inclement weather to help Spark. With the amount of blood he'd already lost, he might not have time for that anyway.

"We'll take Spark to them, then," Candela said, reaching the same conclusion.

"No," said Blanche.

"No?" Candela echoed, incredulous.

"Professor Willow's anxiety over the storm is preventing him from thinking clearly. Coupled with the massive damage his lab has taken, he's in no state of mind to venture into this weather. He'd just be someone else to take care of," Blanche said.

Candela spread her arms as she became more exasperated with Blanche. "OK, so, I'll go then."

Blanche crossed their arms. "No. The professor needs you with him. More than that, the pokémon need you. You've been keeping them calm and safe from the storm so far. Without you, they could panic."

Blanche recalled the petrified vulpix Candela had protected earlier. Without her there, the vulpix might have darted into the storm, just like the meowth Spark had rescued. Candela had taken the time to transport the pokéballs to safety, and had made sure to comfort any pokémon in distress.

"Professor Willow and the pokémon all need your compassion right now," Blanche said. "Spark needs my logic. I'll take him there alone."

Candela searched Blanche's face, and they knew she was trying to gauge their seriousness. Flicker shook his head in agitation, and Candela reflexively steadying him by placing her arm across his withers. He leaned his head against her chest. Blanche could actually see the realization enter Candela's head as her face loosened and shoulders relaxed.

Candela met Blanche's eyes. "Blanche…"

Blanche looked aside so they wouldn't have to acknowledge the worry in Candela's face. "I have a plan."

§

In the basement, Willow had finished binding Spark's wound with the towels and lengths of stretchy bandaging tape Candela had recovered from the main floor. Spark lay on his front on a makeshift sleeping pad formed of blankets and piles of old t-shirts from the event Willow had thrown for the facility's grand opening. Willow held one of the shirts in his hands, tenderly running his thumbs over the stitching, admiring the art of his laboratory that decorated the front.

Candela knelt beside him. "Professor, I'm so sorry…"

Willow smiled and folded the shirt. His eyes were rimmed with red, but he looked more together than Blanche had expected, considering much of his life's work had just been demolished. "These things happen. I'm only glad we were all downstairs for it. It's only a building and some equipment. I'm sure there are some very confused trainers trying to transfer pidgeys to our tag-and-release database, though."

Candela grinned and chucked him lightly on the shoulder. "They were going to burn out that system anyway. How's Spark?"

Willow sighed. "Hard to tell. His breathing is more regular, but he's out cold. It's strange seeing him so… quiet."

Blanche nodded. "It's for the best. The less he moves around, the better his chances are while I'm transporting him to the hospital."

Willow stood and brushed the dust from his pants. "You can't be serious…"

"There's no other choice," Blanche stated. "I'll use my venusaur to cross the town. If he stays here, he's as good as dead."

"They know what they're doing, Professor," Candela said, and Blanche was surprised by the warm sensation in their chest that flared when Candela backed them up. "We need to be here for the pokémon, and Blanche needs to be there for Spark."

Willow planted his fists on his hips and looked from Candela to Blanche. The stress of the day was etched into his face, and his eyes were dull and tired. He had no option but to agree with their plan. Time was running out, and he had no better arguments than Candela had made.

"Blanche, are you sure? Are you ready to do this?" he asked. "From the reports I can still hear on the radio, we're not out of the woods yet. It's dangerous out there."

Spark coughed and moaned quietly from his pallet. Blanche had been hoping he'd stay totally out for their journey. The suffering they'd seen on his face earlier had made their stomach churn.

"It must be done. I'm ready," said Blanche resolutely. "Candela?"

Candela called for Brutus, and the machoke appeared from his pokéball and obligingly lifted Spark from the floor upon Candela's request. Candela and Brutus moved for the stairs, but Blanche lingered to get a read on Willow.

In that moment, he seemed so old. An invisible force weighed on the professor's shoulders that Blanche couldn't hope to understand. They comprehended the extent of the loss to the lab, but they knew it was different for Willow. He'd called it his "baby," and Blanche had giggled at the thought. But now Blanche could see the heartache hanging like a dark shroud around him, and the sting of the loss set it more than it had before.

A page of their life had been torn from its place and cast into the eternally hungry mouth of the storm.

"Spark is going to be OK," Blanche told him. "We're all going to be OK. We can go on from here."

Willow smiled at them, but it was a weary smile, a facsimile of his usual wry grin. "Be safe, then. And be wise."

Blanche straightened their posture. "Of course."

"And be kind."

Blanche wasn't sure what to make of that one. "Professor?"

"Blanche! Hurry up! I though you said there was no time to lose!" Candela called.

With one last questioning glance at Professor Willow, Blanche headed for the stormy world above.

§

"OK, OK, but are you really sure you can do this?"

Blanche clenched their fist at Candela's question. "My venusaur is resolute in all conditions. If we follow the path I've planned, we'll reach the hospital before dark."

"Hard to get darker than this," Candela noted, pointing at the ominous clouds above them.

"When night falls, it will be," Blanche said.

They stood under the lab's marquee, braced against the wet wind that swiped at them. Blanche's venusaur squatted low to the ground while Blanche hopped into place behind the pokémon's head, next to Spark, who was held in place by the venusaur's vines. The venusaur wasn't fast, but he was sturdy and focused. Slow, certain steps would be the key to traversing the flooding streets.

"Then you'd better get moving," Candela said. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she tried to conserve the heat that the rain threatened to steal from her.

Blanche nodded their head once in affirmation. Next to them, Spark winced and shivered, but didn't wake up. His lips had turned completely blue. Time weighed heavy in Blanche's mind. They nudged the venusaur forward, into the rain, and the pokémon obeyed without hesitation.

"Don't let him die!" Candela continued.

Blanche resisted the urge to roll their eyes. "That's the idea, yes."

"And you better not die either!"

Blanche waved at Candela over their shoulder, tired of the obvious advice. If Candela shouted anything else, Blanche couldn't hear it. Though the massive petals of their venusaur protected Spark and themself from the elements, the sound of the wind and rain was deafening. The cold weight of fear settled in Blanche's stomach, but they didn't dare turn back.

The only option Blanche could permit was to keep moving forward, into the looming maw of the storm.


	4. Chapter 4

Blanche's venusaur lumbered through the streets, his huge feet splashing down through the rapids that engulfed the town. Blanche leaned over the side of their steed to watch the debris racing and swirling underfoot. The storm had been predicted to be bad, but not _this_ bad. They wondered about the citizens of the dark homes they passed and hoped they were safe. In the worst case scenario, Blanche suspected the lab contained enough water pokémon for a rescue and evacuation maneuver if the water rose too high, but it would be a gargantuan effort.

"Why…?"

Spark's voice caught Blanche off guard, and they almost lost their grip on the venusaur's foliage. Spark's eyes were cracked open, and he blearily took inventory of himself. Blanche had instructed their venusaur to bind him firmly in vines, so he wouldn't slip off or squirm on their painstakingly slow journey. Spark stared at the vines with an expression of deep concentration.

"Why am I a metapod?" he asked.

"You're confused," Blanche said. "I need you to stay calm."

Spark smiled and quirked a brow at Blanche. "I know I'm not literally a metapod."

Blanche sighed, trying not to let Spark see their embarrassment. "Good."

Spark's head lolled to the side so he could get a better look at his surroundings. Blanche watched him closely, trying to assess his condition. It was good that he wasn't delirious, but his complexion remained alarmingly pale, and his lips were an unnatural blue.

"Where are Candela and the prof?" he asked, looking back to Blanche.

"At the lab," Blanche replied.

"What are we doing out here?"

"I'm taking you to the hospital."

Spark grunted and fidgeted against his restraints. He managed to free one shoulder with unexpected speed.

"What are you doing?" Blanche patted the venusaur's side to get his attention. "Venusaur, hold him tighter."

The vines clenched around Spark and reclaimed his shoulder. He fought against the restriction, rocking his shoulders, pushing with his legs, until he let out a sharp gasp.

"Easy, Venusaur!" Blanche said. Bile rose in their throat. Had they gone too far?

Spark caught his breath. "Blanche, we gotta get out of the storm. We shouldn't be out here."

Blanche dug their nails into their palms. "If only you'd had such presence of mind when you went after that meowth. Then we wouldn't be out here now."

"Her name is Muffin," Spark said in the meowth's defense. "But… I _am_ sorry. I never meant for things to turn out this way."

Blanche guided the venusaur around a lamppost that had fallen at a bizarre angle as they considered Spark's words. They analyzed him from the corner of their eye, and he appeared sincerely crestfallen.

"I understand why you did what you did. It was a noble – if foolish – impulse," Blanche conceded, but the guilty feeling remained.

Spark frowned. "I couldn't just leave Muffin out there. That would have been heartless. She's just a low level house pokémon; she could have been killed."

"So she was worth risking your life for?" Blanche hadn't meant to raise their voice like that. Maybe the noise of the rain pelting the venusaur's canopy had softened their exclamation.

Spark jerked within the vines again and gritted his teeth against the pain it must have caused to do so. "That's what trainers do for their pokémon! Trainers and pokémon trust and protect each other! That's what our partnership is all about!"

Fine, if Spark was going to get angry, Blanche wouldn't hold back either. "That ungrateful meowth wasn't even your pokémon! You're going to die for some child's stupid pet!"

"Then you're out here risking you and your pokémon's life on a dead man. How does that make you any different from me?"

His eyes were cold and his mouth formed a grim line. He was trembling, though Blanche couldn't tell whether it was due to the injury or the cold rain or the unexpected fury they'd unearthed.

"You're not going to die," Blanche said, though their voice faltered.

Spark nodded his head at a deserted bakery across the street. "I know that place. That's where I pick up the donuts for our weekly operations meeting. Rutabaga walks with me there so she can get a treat from the owners of the store, but you know she wouldn't bother going if it were more than two blocks from the lab."

Blanche pretended to be busy looking at something in the water ahead. They'd always thought Rutabaga was a ridiculous name for a raichu, but the raichu herself was fairly absurd on her own. She was roly-poly and lazy, despite being an electric pokémon. She was often Spark's napping companion and would serve as his willing pillow. Rutabaga had been in her ball all day. Did she even know what was happening?

"Your venusaur is trying his best, Blanche, but we're getting nowhere fast," Spark continued. "We can still turn around."

"You don't understand," said Blanche. "You're in bad shape, Spark. I can't fix what happened to you with towels and tape. If I don't get you to the hospital, I don't know what would happen to you."

Spark laughed dryly. "Yes you do. You said it before. I'm going to die."

Something about the way he said it send a shiver up Blanche's spine. "Don't say that."

He was quiet for a while, and Blanche had to divide their attention between the venusaur's route and Spark's condition. He looked so small, bound as he was by the grass pokémon. His spiky hair had been deflated by the rain, and his sunshiny eyes lacked their signature energy. Blanche couldn't grasp why seeing him like this felt so profoundly wrong. He still had time. He was alert, talkative even. Sure, there wasn't much time to delay, but he could certainly make it to the hospital. He had to.

"Why don't you name your pokémon?"

Blanche took his question in stride, glad for the change in subject. "I consider it to be degrading. It's saying that I own them. That I have the authority to label them, and there's nothing they can do about it."

Spark pursed his lips to consider their argument. If the situation weren't so dire, Blanche would have found the image of him cocooned and pouting somewhat humorous. "That's fair. But I think working with pokémon is kind of like ownership, except you and the pokémon own each other. You're responsible for your pokémon, and they're responsible for you. And if they don't like their names, they'll tell you." He paused. "Sometimes violently. With electricity."

"Is there a story there?" Blanche asked.

Spark groaned and rolled his head back, but it wasn't out of pain. He laughed weakly and straightened up before answering. "I wanted to call Rutabaga 'Her Grand Duchess Thunder-Wagon,' but she wasn't into it. Like, a couple well-placed zaps not into it. So I jokingly offered to call her Rutabaga because she was chubby and shaped like one, and she clung to it. I think out of stubbornness at first, but it grew on both of us."

Blanche couldn't stop the smile that tugged their lips. It was just too ridiculous a story. "That's cute, but I still don't know how I feel about naming."

"I just wanted to know," Spark said, closing his eyes. "You don't have to change your mind."

A gust of wind whipped Blanche's ponytail into their face, and they struggled to tuck it away again. Spark was right. They were moving at an agonizing pace, but their venusaur was giving it his best. Every so often, he grunted and huffed as a barrage of water struck his legs or a loose newspaper plastered itself to his face. Yet he continued on, consistent and unflagging.

"I'm sorry if I alarmed you with all of the… death talk," Blanche said.

Spark didn't open his eyes. "Hm?"

"I didn't mean it," they went on. "I overreacted. It's still critical that we get you to the hospital, of course, but I shouldn't have said you were going to die. I feel terrible about it."

"It's OK," said Spark. Blanche barely heard it over the rain. "I know you're just worried. But… I'm not as big of an idiot as you think I am."

"What do you mean?" Blanche didn't like how long his eyes were closed. "Look at me, Spark. I don't think you're an idiot. Not all the time."

His eyes opened, and Blanche could tell it took some effort for him to even get them part way. "I want you to turn your venusaur around and go back to the lab."

"Stop. I'm not going to do that," said Blanche. "We must be most of the way to the hospital by now."

"The storm destroyed the lab, didn't it? I didn't make that up, right? I remember waking up and seeing the machines all smashed on the floor just before I was lifted up here," Spark slurred. "The prof needs you back there. You should go back."

"He needs you, too," Blanche returned. Another blast of wind buffeted them, but the venusaur trudged on.

"Not like he needs you and Candela. I'll just be in the way."

The hair rose on the back of Blanche's neck. "I don't like hearing you talk like this. You know that's not true. You aren't thinking rationally right now."

Spark's eyelids drooped again, and he smiled thinly. "I'm the idiot who runs into storms and puts other people's lives in danger. I'm the reason you're out here now, instead of helping at the lab."

"Spark, s-stop," Blanche stuttered. "It's not like that."

Spark chewed his lip. "Blanche… I'm scared. I know you must be too. You can still go home. I… I don't know if…"

"Stop it!" Blanche exclaimed in a breaking voice. They quickly contained themself and swatted away a tear before it could roll to their chin. Why were they getting so upset over this crazy-talk? "You're going to be fine. You need to stop thinking like that. Of course I'm out here for you. I'd be anywhere for you. If you don't understand that, maybe you _are_ an idiot."

When he didn't answer, Blanche supposed they must have hurt his feelings. They'd never heard him speak about himself like that. It made them sick to hear it, and to hear him talk as though he were already…

"Spark?"

He didn't move.

Blanche jumped to their knees and shook him without thinking. He muttered and squeezed his eyes tighter.

"Thank the stars," Blanche breathed. "Spark, I'm sorry. You did the right thing with Muzzy, or Muffin or whatever. I couldn't have done that. Maybe that makes me heartless, I don't know. But you're kind and warm and funny and thoughtful. Everything I'm not. And that's why the lab needs you. That's why I need you."

Spark blinked feebly up at them. "…Blanche?"

They laughed once, a sort of manic little cough. "You keep scaring me, Spark. I can't take it."

He didn't seem as tickled. His eyes darted. "What's going on?"

Blanche thought their heart might shatter. "Stop playing around. I told you, I don't like your pranks."

Spark started to writhe, but sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his wound. "Ah! Blanche, it hurts… I don't understand…"

Blanche held his shoulders, encouraging him to be still. "Shhh, everything's OK."

He choked on a breath and his face contorted in pain. The delirium had set in. Their time was slipping away. Spark's eyes rolled up until Blanche saw only a sliver of white.

"Hey! Stay here, Spark. Stay with me," Blanche pleaded.

His breathing was quick and shallow, but he managed to respond. "Something's wrong… I can't… move…"

"That's OK, Spark." Blanche scrambled for something to get him to focus on. Not the raging storm, not the terrible pain he had to be in. "You remember how I said I've never named my pokémon? Why don't you help me?"

Spark shook his head limply. "Blanche… I don't know if I…"

"Come on. How about my venusaur?"

Spark sucked his lips in, bracing himself, thinking. "I, uh… I don't know… I can't remember… tell me about him?"

Blanche looked down at their pokémon and found his great, half-lidded eye was looking back up at them. They weren't ready for that pressure. "Sure… uh, he's larger than average. I'm impressed by his stats, as a whole, though his battle move-set could be honed."

Blanche wasn't sure if Spark grinned or grimaced. "No, not like that," he said. "There's… more."

"What more?" Blanche asked, trying not to be frustrated with a critically injured cohort.

"What's he like?"

"I just told you what he's like. What more do you want?"

Spark's lips moved, but Blanche couldn't make out any words. They rocked his shoulder, and his head flopped without resistance.

"No… no-no-no," Blanche muttered. "Come on, Spark. I need your help."

The hospital loomed ahead, still several blocks away, but finally in sight.

"Look how close we are! I just need you to stay awake," Blanche said, patting his cheek.

Still no response. Blanche pressed two fingers against his neck. The pulse was faint, but present. Blanche couldn't guess how long it would remain so. They leaned over and brushed the side of their venusaur's head.

"You've done such a good job, Venusaur," they said. "But I need you to go faster. I know it's hard, but you've come so far already. Please, try for me."

To Blanche's horror, the pokémon stopped in his tracks. He stood in the middle of the flooded road and began to tilt forward. Was he preparing to throw them off? Blanche gripped the vines that enclosed Spark's body and waited for the worst.

And then, the venusaur launched forward like a rocket.


	5. Chapter 5

The venusaur galloped down the street with a speed Blanche never suspected he was capable of. Every bound lifted Blanche from their seat and made their stomach flip. They gripped the venusaur's foliage with white knuckles and had no choice but to trust the venusaur would keep Spark secure, because it took all their might just to keep themself onboard. Water sprayed away from the thundering pokémon's steps in wing-like arches. Even the crack of lightning striking a nearby building top failed to impede the venusaur.

Though the rain slanted into Blanche's face and turned their vision blurry, they could see the wide doors of the emergency entrance a mere block away. There even appeared to be several people at the door, drawn to the sight of a venusaur barreling through flood waters with two human companions in tow.

"That's it, Venusaur!" Blanched shouted over the chaos of wind and water and the pokémon's earth-shaking steps. "You're amazing! AHH!"

They nearly lost their hold on the vines, and once they had a better hold, they started to laugh like they'd gone mad. Blanche wished Spark could see this. A venusaur sprinting like a rapidash, the spectators watching in awe from the hospital, Blanche's own crazed laughter, all against the backdrop of the biggest storm this little town had ever seen. Maybe Spark had finally succeeded in driving them truly crazy.

Ahead, the doors to the hospital opened. They were ready for their arrival, and the gesture seemed to spur the venusaur even faster. Blanche chanced a look at Spark, but he remained as slack as before, but safely contained in the venusaur's vines. Still, the rough motion of their mount couldn't be good for him in his fragile state. Even if the venusaur could have achieved this pace all the way from the lab, it would have been too brutal a ride for Spark. But Blanche had to take the chance now.

The venusaur slowed as they approached the overhang of the emergency entrance, but Blanche feared it was still too fast. The pokémon angled himself broadside and slid the last several yards, sending up a great wall of water that crashed through the open doors of the hospital.

"I'm sorry!" Blanche yelled to the drenched nurses inside as the venusaur finally stopped moving.

The venusaur hunkered down, and Blanche could feel the quickness of his breath beneath them. They slid from his back and landed in swirling water that reached their knees. They tried not to think of the untold contaminants that coursed through that filthy water as they slogged through it to the venusaur's other side. The pokémon was already lowering Spark onto a gurney manned by several nurses in soaked scrubs. As soon as he was released from the venusaur's bind, the group whisked him inside, and Blanche hurried after, grateful for the slant upward that kept the high water out of the hospital proper.

The inside of the hospital was dark except for a few red emergency lights that Blanche supposed ran on independent power. The floor was slick under Blanche's boots, and they found themself tripping and sliding in their attempt to follow Spark down a dim hallway. A hand reached out to stop them.

"What happened?" the doctor asked.

Blanche fought for their breath before answering her. "He was struck by debris. Large laceration across his back. Hypovolemic shock."

The doctor – a tall woman, with dark, tightly curled hair and serious brown eyes – scribbled something on a clipboard. She examined her note, nodded once, then rushed down the hall without another word.

Blanche yanked off their boots and cast them aside, determined to follow without slipping and busting their head open. More hands appeared to hold them back as they tried to pursue the gurney.

"I'm sorry, Team Leader," said the owner of one of the pairs of hands. "You need to stay here."

Blanche flashed the sharpest glare they could manage at their captors, but none of them balked. They recognize the face of the person who'd addressed them. He was a trainer for Willow's lab in his spare time, a recent recruit for Team Mystic. Blanche stopped struggling and tried their best to look professional, despite their surely bedraggled appearance.

"I… uh, yes, of course," Blanche said. Hospital protocol. They should have known better, but they'd been so swept up in the excitement.

The Team Mystic nurse smiled and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "I've never seen a venusaur run like that! He's really something else. Looks like he got Spark here just in time. What was that idiot doing out in the storm? Following his instincts?" He laughed at his own joke.

"He's not an idiot," Blanche said, and turned on their heel for the entrance.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything…"

Blanche ignored him and, disregarding their lack of boots, waded back out into the emergency bay. The large overhang was tall and broad enough for their venusaur to fit comfortably, more or less safe from the continuing downpour, even if he had to sit in a foot or two of water. His mouth hung open as he panted, his giant tongue hanging almost comically to the side. He blinked slowly at Blanche as they approached and put a hand on his head.

"Thank you," they said. "Are you all right?"

The venusaur closed his eyes and pushed against Blanche's hand. A warmth spread in Blanche's chest and they stroked his smooth head.

"You really are something else," they murmured.

Spark's words resonated in their head. _There's more._

"Resolute," Blanche stated.

The venusaur opened his eyes to give Blanche an inquisitive look.

"How's that for a nickname? If you want a nickname, of course. I just, ah, thought it described you adequately," Blanche explained. "But, you know, it's only if you want it."

The venusaur leaned hard into Blanche, and they worried they might have irritated him. But his eyes seemed to sparkle with a light they'd never noticed, and his low grumble sounded decidedly content. Blanche sighed, and it felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted from their back.

"Thank you, Resolute. I brought your pokéball. Are you ready for a little rest?"

Resolute dipped his head in consent, and Blanche plucked his pokéball from their belt to return him. Once he was within the ball, they held it before their face. The pokéball reflected a distorted version of Blanche's head, but they could see their tangled hair and tired eyes clearly in it. They smirked at themself, and walked back inside the hospital.

§

Blanche spent the night curled in a waiting room chair, despite being offered a bed by several members of hospital staff. Outside, the storm gradually quieted, and at dawn, the sun made a brief appearance through the curtain of clouds. But it wasn't long before the rain returned, though with less violence.

The nurses assured Blanche every time they asked that Spark was stable, but was not permitted visitors. So Blanche spent the day pacing the hospital, trying to find ways to be useful. By mid-morning, their communicator had a signal, and a precise zap from a hospital pikachu gave it the juice for Blanche to call the professor and update him on the situation.

By the evening, the rain was a pitiful sprinkle, and Candela arrived at the hospital with a case of electric, flying, and fire pokémon. She spent the night sprawled across several chairs next to Blanche.

All the while, Spark slept.

The next dawn was bright and calm, and the fire and flying pokémon set to work drying the hospital basement while the electric types traded off with the staff pokémon to power the generators. To Blanche's relief, only a few residents of the town appeared at the hospital with storm-related wounds. A twisted ankle from slipping on a watery front porch, the start of a nasty cold from all the wet weather.

Through the windows, Blanche watched other pokémon and people working together to clear the streets and repair damaged powerlines. Bellsprouts and oddishes soaked up the excess rainwater, pidgeottos and fearows summoned controlled dust-devils to gather up trash. Crews of electricians replaced ruined utility poles while citizens righted uprooted trees.

In the late afternoon, power returned to the hospital, and a nurse arrived to tell Blanche and Candela that they could see Spark at last.

Blanche entered his room, expecting him to still be asleep, or at least in the bed. Instead, he was standing in front of the window, his back to them, hands pressed to the glass like a kid in front of a candy store. The gap in the back of his hospital gown exposed his bandaged spine, and a little something more.

"Spark!" Candela clasped her hands over her eyes. "Damn it, I thought we were gonna have some kind of somber reunion, but instead you greet us with that?"

Spark, seemingly oblivious to Candela's complaint, turned and spread his arms, an enormous smile spreading across his face. "You guys! You're here!"

"Of course we're here, you id-" Candela stopped herself. "Oh, I forgot. Blanche is taking a stand on the 'I' word."

"In the first place, it's ableist. Secondly, its colloquial usage would serve as an inaccurate label for you," Blanche said, looking everywhere in the room except at Spark's flimsy gown.

Candela rolled her eyes back until her eyelashes fluttered. Still an overgrown child, after everything. "Anyway, as I was saying, of course we're here. How are you feeling? Shouldn't you not be wandering around your room like this?"

Spark grinned sheepishly and reached to scratch behind his head, but the motion must have tugged at his stitches, because he winced and returned his hand to his side. "Yeah, well, this is about as far as I've gotten. I just woke up about an hour ago. Feeling a little queasy, honestly. But also like I could eat anything that gets too close to my mouth."

"So, pretty much back to normal then?" Candela teased.

Spark laughed. "I guess so. In fact, Dr. Davies is working on my discharge paperwork as we speak."

Blanche swiftly appraised his condition. Dark circles lingered under his eyes and his cheeks looked hollow. Though he was standing, he leaned against the windowsill for support. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"Trust me, I'll feel much better when I'm back at the lab," Spark said.

Candela plonked herself down at the end of Spark's bed and kicked her feet over the footboard. "Maybe you haven't heard, but the lab is kind of in shambles."

His face fell. "Yeah, I know. But I want to see it for myself." His blue eyes suddenly widened. "Wait, is the hatchery OK?"

"The Professor assures me that it's safe. The main foyer has some broken glass and much of the equipment is ruined, but the rest of the lab is fine," Blanche told him.

"Thank Zapdos," Spark whispered. He startled Blanche by suddenly shaking the gloom away with a cheerful clap of his hands. "Whelp! I'm about ready to climb out the window if-"

"If what?" interrupted the doctor Blanche had spoken with the first night as she entered the room. She smiled knowingly at Spark before passing a packet of paperwork to Blanche. "I know you're eager to go home, Spark. But are you sure wouldn't rather spend another night with us? Just to be safe?"

"Thanks, Dr. Davies, but nah," Spark dismissed with a lazy swipe of his hand. "I think I'll be safe enough with Blanche. I'm sure they'll fret over me plenty."

"We'll see," Blanche said dryly, thumbing through the pages of documentation. Much of it was handwritten, thanks to the power outage, including a set of aftercare instructions.

Dr. Davies shrugged. "I can't argue with that." She turned to Blanche and Candela. "Now, did either of you bring a change of clothes for him? I'm afraid the set he came in aren't salvageable."

Blanche and Candela exchanged blank looks.

A mischievous expression crinkled Dr. Davies' nose. "Let's see what I can come up with from the lost and found."

§

Clothed in baggy sweatpants and an oversized pink shirt decorated with a smiling jigglypuff, Spark stood with Blanche in front of the hospital and soaked in some much-missed rays of sunlight. He'd staunchly refused a wheelchair, to Dr. Davies' obvious chagrin, but kept a hand on Blanche's shoulder, just in case.

Candela prepped Flicker to pull a rickshaw by fastening a harness around the ponyta's barrel. Flicker fidgeted, disliking the damp ground, but more or less eager to help where he could. Every so often, Candela cursed under her breath as the straps failed to line up the way she thought they should.

Blanche waited a few minutes to speak, not wanting to disturb Spark's appreciation of the sunlight. "Are you really going to be all right?"

"Of course," Spark said. "I mean, I've definitely felt better, but all things considered…"

"No, I mean, more than that," Blanche said, fighting to find the right phrasing. "You said some things during the storm. Do you remember? You wanted me to turn around and go back to the lab, but if I would have done that…"

Spark's smile faded, ever so slightly. "I didn't mean that, you know. I was just scared and behaving irrationally, like you said."

Blanche wasn't convinced. "Spark…"

"That thing you said about colonialism was sweet, by the way," he said, in a graceless change of subject.

Blanche racked their brain to figure out what he meant. "What? Oh, no, colloquialisms. It's when a word has gained a common usage that differs from its original…"

They trailed off, recognizing the impish glint in Spark's eye. The heat of shame rose in their cheeks.

"Right. You're not unintelligent," they said.

Spark chuckled and squeezed Blanche's shoulder.

"I had a surprise for you, but now I'm not sure I want to share it with you," Blanche said, recovering their cool.

Spark immediately perked up. "What? No fair! Come on, Blanche, don't be like that."

Blanche sniffed. "Fine, but you don't deserve it. I named my venusaur."

"Tell me!"

Blanche held him in suspense for a few seconds. "His name is Resolute." When Spark didn't respond right away, Blanche clumsily continued. "I'm not very good at this. I haven't named a pokémon before, so I hope it isn't silly."

"Blanche, that's a wonderful name! That's perfect!" Spark exclaimed.

"You think so?"

Spark beamed. "Absolutely."

Candela kicked the wheel of the rickshaw and stomped up to Blanche and Spark. "Well, it might collapse or break off from Flicker and go tumbling down a hill, but it's what we have, so yippee," she grumbled.

"Wait! Before you go!"

Dr. Davies walked hand-in-hand with a little girl who had the same tight, dark curls of hair as the doctor did. A tubby meowth in a pink collar waddled beside the child, purring. The little girl let go of Dr. Davies' – her mother, Blanche realized – hand and approached Spark. She wore the biggest gap-toothed grin Blanche had ever seen.

"Thank you for saving Muffin!" the child squeaked.

"Thanks for saving _me,_ " Spark replied. He leaned like he meant to bend down to the girl's height, but Blanche knew he couldn't risk it with his back. "I heard you left me flowers. That really helped!"

"And a card!" the girl added, handing him a construction paper creation that was all scribbles and stickers.

"Thank you so much," said Spark, and his lip started to tremble. He cried over the littlest things. Even knowing that, Blanche felt tears welling in their own eyes, and they had to look away.

"Hannah and I will keep Muffin somewhere safe the next time a storm comes through town," Dr. Davies said. "And then maybe you won't have to pull ridiculous stunts chasing a runaway pokémon, right?"

"It made for a great adventure, though," Spark argued.

"I better not see you back here for a while, OK?" Dr. Davies said as her child returned to her side.

"Sure thing, Doc," Spark said.

"If we're done being disgustingly sappy, we should get going. Willow is blowing up my communicator wondering where we are," Candela said.

Spark waved goodbye to Hannah and her mother and allowed Blanche to help boost him into the rickshaw. He kept his face turned away from the Davies so they wouldn't see him grimace. Before Blanche could pester him about it, he gave a small thumbs-up to confirm he was fine.

The rickshaw started down the street, Blanche and Candela flanking it.

"I could get used to this kind of royal transportation," Spark commented.

Candela scoffed. "Don't know what kind of royals ride around in splintery pieces of junk like this, but still, don't let it get to your head."

Blanche wondered at how he could be so lighthearted after everything. After almost dying, after saying what he'd said about himself not being needed. He was just as chipper as ever. He waved at the people working in the streets, and they waved merrily back, as if he were some kind of fairytale princess sitting in a chariot.

Blanche felt they'd uncovered something heavy, something dark inside Spark that they were not meant to see.

Spark caught them staring. "Everything OK, Blanche?"

Blanche did their best to push the doubt to the back of their mind. He was here, and alive, and overflowing with sunshine. There was so much to do, so much to think about, but at least there was Spark.

"Yes," they said. "Everything is OK. It's all going to be OK.

* * *

Author's Note (do we get into trouble for doing these? I don't know stuff): Thank you for the wonderful responses to my story! I'm all giddy and whatnot. I've written, like, half a fanfic in my life, and it was real weird. Not that this isn't real weird. This is probably real weird. Anyway, thank you for reading, and I'm working on more stories in the same timeline with these dudes. I want to explore what's going on with Spark's head, and give Candela more than just a cursory, spitfire personality, and keep developing Blanche's relationship with pokémon. I hope you'll enjoy those stories too!

 **9/26/2016 Update:** I did in fact continue to write in the same timeline! Check out my page for a short feel-good Candela story and then a much larger, ongoing adventure with higher stakes and a bit of an Indiana Jones feel. Thanks for reading!


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